"Alright, I'm warning you that this is a high-stakes car chase," The Director's voice fizzled through the walkie-talkie. "I'll ask one more time, are you sure you want to do this? We have a stuntman on the side and ready to do it in your place. We can edit your face on his during editing, over."
Harper brought the device closer to his face with a smile. "The audience is one-hundred percent going to tell if I wasn't doing this scene myself, Director. I'm ready, over."
"Very well then," The Director soundly responded. "Good luck, Harper Moore, over."
Harper secured the walkie-talkie underneath his seat and tightly gripped the wheel with both hands, slowly taking deep breaths to calm his nerves. This was it, his hard work over the years had finally paid off. The years of practice, numerous auditions, and stress accumulated during his chase for stardom didn't go to waste. He was finally here as an actor, starring in a major motion picture. If he failed now, there would be no second chances.
"We're continuing as planned!" He heard the Director's voice shout in the distance. "We only have one shot at this, and we better make this count!"
"Lights!"
Harper turned on the ignition.
"Cameras!"
He revved the engine.
"Action!"
Harper slammed on the gas, jolting the car forward and creating skid marks on the road before quickly speeding onto the freeway. Two black SUVs with tinted windows were chasing behind him from a distance, rapidly gaining speed. Gunmen leaned out of the windows with guns at the ready.
"Shit!" Harper steered around the cars ahead of him. "They're onto us!"
The gunmen opened fire from their SUVs, causing the rear window of Harper's car to shatter. Harper managed to duck just in time, narrowly avoiding the bullets flying above his head.
"Ririo! Luraio!" Lucario shouted through the gunfire, striking down the bullets flying in their direction with his paws.
"Alright!" Harper looked back onto the road, now protected by his pokémon partner. "Be prepared to hit back at them at my command!"
"Riar!" Lucario grunted, bracing for the upcoming turn on the freeway intersection.
Harper swiftly turned the steering wheel, expertly maneuvering his car to avoid the vehicles ahead as they merged into a different lane. Stabilizing himself, Lucario leaned out of the window, clapping his paws together and slowly spreading them apart and focusing his aura. In his palm, a spiral of blue orbs formed, each one progressively smaller than the last like a coiled magazine.
"Gatling Aura Spheres! Now!" Harper shouted as he drifted on a right turn.
Holding his left paw stable, Lucario consecutively swiped aura spheres with his right paw toward the SUVs like playing cards, spending each orb like ammo. The move created miniature explosions in their general vicinity, violently hitting the asphalt in front of their enemies. The gunmen attempted to dodge the aura spheres, only to fail when Lucario shot the final orb in his move at one SUV's wheels, causing the SUV to swerve into the other and crash both of them.
"Good job, Lucario!" Harper looked over his window and back at the gunmen, now buried under a hubris of flame and metal.
"Cari! Rion!" Lucario extended its arm, pointing ahead toward the exit ramp that led into a sprawling industrial area, the towering buildings casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun.
"You're reaching the exit ramp!" The Director's voice crackled underneath Harper's seat. "JUMP NOW!"
With one hand continuing to grip the steering wheel, Harper leaned over and pressed the eject button on his seatbelt, hoping for a quick release. However, to his dismay, the mechanism failed to unlock the strap, leaving him trapped.
"T-The seatbelt isn't working!" Harper fumbled. "Get out of the car!"
Looking to his side, Lucario was already gone. Harper had no time to think about his pokémon partner, he was only able to wait for the inevitable as the car sped off the ramp, flying in the air before falling closer and closer to the ground until—
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—Harper jerked out of bed, accidentally falling off the side of his bed and falling frontside onto the floor. He winced in pain as he sat himself up, leaning on the side of his bed for support. Any notion of going back to sleep was completely gone as the blunt pain on his face and chest were more than enough to keep him awake.
"Fuck… my chest…"
Finally realizing that the alarm was blaring the entire time, he leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed his phone, turning it off. The time read "8:30 AM", a time he wished was anything else.
Tossing his phone behind his back onto the bed, a worn-out sigh escaped his mouth, still sitting on the floor long overdue for a sweep. In fact, his small studio apartment was in need of a complete cleanse. His discarded clothes layered the floor in mounds, hiding the dirtier parts of the room. The curtains were starting to discolor into a muted hue, barely letting any sliver of light from the window penetrate through. In the corner lay an abandoned pizza box on a worn coffee table, a sour reminder of yesterday's late-night dinner.
Despite the chaos, the place had a subtle aura of indifference. Harper wasn't intending to protest against his own cleanliness, but it was more an eventual acceptance of the clutter that had built over as time passed. The room mirrored the current state of Harper's life, where days and weeks had blurred the line between comfort and turmoil.
Now fully awake and aware of his surroundings, Harper begrudgingly stood up from his seated position to start the day. Today was going to be easier than others, as the day's schedule was planned to sort the equipment over in the storage units in the backlots of the movie studio he worked at. Why he was assigned this job, he didn't know as his position was Key Grip, not a storage manager. Upper management's excuse was that since Harper knew how to properly manage equipment due to his experience, he should be the one overseeing its storage. If they weren't paying overtime for this, he would've rejected the request immediately.
Slowly changing into his last set of clean clothes, Harper began to remember the dream he had before waking up on the ground. He had this dream before, of him being in his father's shoes before the accident. Harper came to terms with his father's death years ago but despite that, his mind liked to remind him of the incident. Not only did he dream about being an actor, why was there a lucario in there? It felt so natural that he didn't even question it during that car chase.
"That's hilarious," Harper scoffed at himself. "That damn dream had to include a pokémon…"
Feeling bitter about his life, Harper stretched his back, grunting with each popping vertebra. He picked his phone up again and loaded his emulated copy, the save still fresh from last night's play session. He knew that he recently emulated a copy of Pokémon Black 2 on his phone. Not given the chance to play the sequel as a kid, he had since subconsciously ignored the Pokémon franchise until recently when nostalgia urged him to return. As he had already played Pokémon Black, it was only right to do a blind playthrough of the game he should've played all those years ago now that he found the time to finally start it last night.
Entering the game and opening his party of pokémon, he looked at the only slots that were filled, a snivy and a riolu. Grass-type starters were his favorites; he always chose one in every new game he got as a kid.
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Currently, he was at the part where he found a herdier captured by Team Plasma behind the Flo-something ranch. He also learned from the internet that you could catch a riolu in that very ranch, a task he had followed the entire night and finally accomplished right as the drowsiness set in. Before he could look at his pokémon's stats, his phone rang, notifying him of a caller.
"I wasn't expecting a call this early," Harper thought as he read the caller's name. The name "Director Gale Reagan" stood out, immediately causing Harper to pick up the phone in record time.
"Oh hey, Mr. Reagan. Is there a reason for an early ca—"
"-Don't you 'oh hey' me!" Gale yelled through the speaker, causing Harper to recoil and stretch his phone as far away from his ear as possible. "Where are you right now?! We're about to start filming in two hours and all the stuff isn't even out yet! Everyone's waiting for your lazy ass to get out here, so HURRY UP!" His phone cuts off soon after, leaving Harper in a daze.
"Shit, filming started today?" Harper quickly opened up his calendar app, only to feel a sense of dread. His unease only grew upon seeing the dates for today's and tomorrow's schedule.
TODAY:
AUGUST 15 - SORT EQUIPMENT IN WAREHOUSE
TOMORROW:
AUGUST 16 - "CRAZED GUNMAN" FILMING TODAY
How in the world did he swap the days together? This had never happened to him before, causing Harper to question his memory but he soon realized that he was only wasting time. Harper was one mistake away before Gale fired him on the spot. As much as he hated the new director, he didn't want to be out of a job any time soon. Harper frantically grabbed his keys and ran out of his apartment, racing to his car and driving off to the freeway. As he drove down the busy intersection, Harper began to reminisce on his life and how everything led to this moment.
Film production was something Harper had always wanted to take part in since he was a child. The ability to take an idea and make it real on the big screen was incredible to him. He wanted to participate in that process, helping someone achieve their goal of creating a movie that millions would watch and enjoy. Harper wouldn't have come to that realization without his father, who worked as a famous stuntman. However, during Harper's early childhood, his father passed away from a stunt gone wrong. The tragedy caused his mother to despise cinematography, causing their relationship to split even more when their views collided.
Harper's dream was to be an actor, but multiple failed attempts in auditions created a wall
between him and his goal. It was only till his last audition that he ended up finding an opportunity to become a Best Boy to assist in a couple of B-list movies. From there, he climbed his way up to the position of Key Grip in major motion pictures. While he was satisfied with his job as Key Grip, the multiple movies he had to work under Gale Reagan were a hassle, causing Harper to judge his sense of duty in the field.
Harper drove through LA's congested traffic as he cursed himself for living in such a crowded city. He had to go to the middle of nowhere and sit in the heat of the desert sun for god knows how long, only to drive back home tired in the dead of night. He groaned to himself, preparing for the nightmare that was Gale's upcoming lecture that was bound to occur the moment he stepped foot out of his car. Minutes later, the traffic began to open up and Harper stepped on the pedal, speeding off down the freeway.
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With only a few minutes to spare, Harper made it to the movie set, and just like he predicted, he saw Gale storming to his car.
"You're the last one to arrive, how is that possible!" Gale screamed at his face. "You're the goddamn Key Grip here for fuck's sake!"
"W-well, Mr. Lewis," Harper stammered. "I had some scheduling is—"
"I don't want to hear any excuses, Harper!" Gale scolded as his face began glowing red. "You're lucky I'm busy with other stuff right now so just know that one more slip up and it's goodbye to your job!"
"Y-yes, sir, Mr. Reagan."
Gale sighed to himself, exhausted from yelling. "Jesus Christ, I can't believe I deal with this bullshit all the time," he muttered, just loud enough for Harper to hear as he walked back into the set. Harper clenched his fist in his pants pocket, the urge to punch the guy was ever-increasing but his urge to get today's work over with was greater. He sighed before stepping out of his car, he could tell that today was going to be a long day. Harper shuffled over to the trucks, preparing himself for manual labor.
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Hours had passed since Harper's arrival on the set, much to the dissatisfaction of everyone. His lateness had delayed the workflow of everyone else from the film crew to the actors and actresses present for today's shoot. Some of the crew members whispered with each other about him, knowing that Harper was able to eavesdrop. Every one of them had the same idea after witnessing the director's explosive temper in the morning.
"He's only here because of his high position, any lower than Key Grip and he'd be fired on the spot."
There wasn't a moment in today's shoot where he didn't hear someone say something along those lines. The words entered his ear and flew out the other, the maintenance of equipment demanded much more of his attention than listening to some bad-mouthing.
Constantly having to rig cameras to create the perfect frame, stabilizing lights, and readjusting angles of set pieces was tiring but he was used to the monotony. He knew his role in creating a film was pivotal, but the treatment he received from the entire film crew tested his patience. Scene after scene, reshoot after reshoot, with scripted gunshots and screams flooding Harper's ears once every couple of minutes, soon became dull sounds.
It wasn't until Gale's assistant director—or as he called him in his head, the "director's pet"—shouted the announcement that lunchtime began. Everyone on the set stopped what they were doing and immediately gathered at the assembled food stand shaded underneath a large tent that had been set up a few minutes ago. The berating from Gale left Harper with an upset stomach that remained till now. Because he still needed to eat something as he skipped breakfast, he decided to eat lightly with some carrots and ranch from the craft service station. Sitting down at a nearby bench, he silently ate his light snack and took his phone out of his pant pocket, opening up his DS emulator.
Cheren would be an easy gym leader thanks to his new pokémon, and the game onward would be a breeze. It had been years since his last playthrough of any Pokémon game and since he barely made any progress in his session last night catching a riolu, he hoped that this lunch break would provide that opportunity to keep playing. As luck would befall Harper, he felt two taps on his shoulder. When he turned around, he came face-to-face with the director himself.
"What're you spacing out for?" Gale growled. "I need you to do something."
Harper stood up from his bench seat, stating. "Sir, the lunch break is still ongoing."
"Shut up and follow me," Gale snapped before walking away, forcing Harper to follow behind. The director approached the trucks that Harper had to unload with little assistance and opened the one at the very end that he was instructed not to empty.
"This is all the explosives we'll use for the next scene," He pointed out. "We'll have them go kaboom on an enemy tank as the main actor races to his car."
"But sir," Harper retorted. "explosives need to be handled by the Special Effects Superviso—"
"Aren't you the equipment guy?" Gale interrupted. "Get it done, Harper, or I'll make our discussion this morning look like a tea party, NOW MOVE IT!"
With a disgruntled "Yes sir…" Harper picked up the explosives shaped like C4 and walked to the fake battle tank. Harper muttered curses as he attached the 'C4' to the underside of the tank. Every event since the moment he got out of bed to where he was right now, kneeling on the hot, uneven, and barren sand was irritating, to say the least. Placing explosives on a fake tank wasn't even a job that was supposed to be his in the first place.
~Hell, I'm not even qualified to be holding this,~ Harper waved one in the air. ~Sure, it's not an actual C4, but it can still kill someone as swiftly as the real thing.~
His current situation caused Harper to devalue himself, if only he had done better in his past auditions, then maybe he would be in a better spot. Sure, being a Key Grip was a pretty solid position in the cinema industry, but there were personal drawbacks.
There was no fame.
There was no glory.
He was helping with filmmaking, but not the way he had hoped for.
Harper wanted to matter in the industry he loved and had a passion for, but he certainly wasn't doing that in his current state. Being cooked in the middle of the damn desert while everyone else was on their lunch break underneath the shade of the tent was downgrading.
Harper then began placing the explosives on the backside of the tank. ~This movie makes me hate being a Key Grip. The moment this movie premieres, I'm looking for another casting audition. I know I said the last one was the last, but I gotta do something.~
As he placed the last couple of explosives, he overheard a conversation in the distance gradually growing louder over time.
"Wait, the explosives are already placed?" The Special Effects Supervisor questioned as he walked with the director.
Gale answered back, still facing the tank. "They already have, and they're ready for the next scene."
"But sir, I was supposed to handle them," The Supervisor responded. "Only an authorized individual, like me, can handle or move them. No one else here has that permission."
"It doesn't matter now. The Director snapped back. "It's already done, you wanna take 'em all off and put them back on yourself?"
The Supervisor sighed, unable to argue any further. The director glanced over at the supervisor's hands with curiosity. "What's that in your hands, anyway?"
"This is the detonator, sir," He explained, raising the device up. "When we start filming, I'll be pushing it at the right moment for the fullest effect and to ensure that it explodes at the right distance from the actor."
"Yeah, yeah, the usual stuff," The Director said, snatching the detonator from the SFX Supervisor's hand. "It's not primed, right? So if I just press i—"
"SIR NO DON'T PUSH THE BU—"
Upon hearing the supervisor scream, Harper tried to step back from the tank, but it was too late. A flash of white and red blinded him, followed by a sudden burning sensation in his front. Pieces of shrapnel lodged into his body and sliced through his skin. The pain was unbearable, but it only lasted for a split second. A sudden sensation of heat covered Harper and soon enough, he only knew darkness.